Caffeini Zabini!
by MissDramatic
Summary: Blaise wants to be a superhero. Hermione doesn't think he can do it. Will he prove her wrong, or is he just another wizard in spandex and sunglasses? Boy!BlaiseHermione


"You know, Love, I've been thinking," Blaise Zabini said to his wife of six years, Hermione Zabini.

"Oh dear," said Hermione smiling. "What have I told you about that?"

Blaise glared at her, before continuing. "I want to be a superhero."

"What?"

"I want to be a superhero," Blaise repeated.

"Blaise, have you had your coffee yet this morning?" asked Hermione, worrying for her husband's sanity.

"Well, actually I only got four good cups in," Blaise confessed, "but, that's irrelevant. This is something I've been thinking about for a while now. Actually, it's because of you."

"Continue," said Hermione, perplexed.

"Well, think about it. Ever since Hogwarts, you, Potter, and Weasley have been fighting crime and bad guys, so in a way, you are all sort of superheroes. I think that's really neat and I want to be a superhero too."

"You're serious about this?" Hermione couldn't help but smile. He considered her to be a superhero. It was rather sweet.

"Darling, I've already bought my cape and sunglasses, as well as a special belt that can hold up to twelve cups of coffee, for those early mornings of crime fighting: the ultimate disguise for the ultimate Zabini superhero." By this point, Blaise was practically bouncing off the furniture with enthusiasm. "Just think, one day, there might even be action figures made of me."

"Er, okay Blaise. But, isn't this a bit, well, _Gryffindor_ of you?"

"Gryffindor of me!" Blaise laughed. "Of course not. Gryffindors are reckless idiots who risk their lives by jumping into a fire of doom or something without even thinking just to die saving someone's life."

"Excuse me?"

"Er, no offense, Hermione," he said weakly, as she glared at him. "But you have to admit, with an exception of you, of course, most of the Gryffindors can't differentiate between courageousness and just plain stupidity. No, a Slytherin can make the best superhero. We plan our rescue missions out first, so we don't end up dying whilst trying to save the world. And, we're cunning too, far less predictable. So, in answer to your question: no, I don't think this is Gryffindor of me at all. Baby I am all Slytherin."

"Well, okay Blaise," Hermione began, chuckling. "If you want to be a superhero, you go right ahead then."

"You don't think I can do this!" said Blaise, indignantly.

"Of course you can," replied Hermione, kissing him on the forehead and talking to him as if he were an ambitious two year old. Blaise glared at her. He would prove to her that he could be just as much a superhero as her, Harry, and Ron, if not more so. So what if they defeated some crazy Dark Lord, Blaise had a cape and sunglasses! "So, Mr. Zabini, what exactly are you going to call yourself?"

"Huh?"

"Well, every good superhero has a name, you know."

"Hmm, er, how about Blaise Man!" said Blaise excitedly.

"Stupid."

"Er, The Blaise?" he suggested, receiving a loud laugh from Hermione. He was not to be discouraged though. "Superhero Man!" Hermione continued to look doubtfully at him. "Merlin, this is stupid. I'll just be the anonymous superhero that doesn't get an official name until I save the town. Then I'll let the newspapers and press name me, like that Spider Guy fellow." At that point, Hermione rolled her eyes. Clearly giving him that collection of Muggle comic books for his birthday had been a bad idea.

"Okay," said Hermione, receiving an appraising look from Blaise.

"Just okay, like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," said Hermione, smiling mischievously, as she wrapped her arms around the neck of her ambitious Slytherin husband. Blaise was still eyeing her suspiciously. "But, if you don't mind, leave the crime fighting until tomorrow. All this talk about superheroes has got me wondering what you'd look like in some tight spandex pants."

"Hey, I never said anything about spandex pants. There's no way-" But Blaise was cut off when Hermione covered his mouth with her own, allowing for the most passionate of kisses. "Wow. Spandex it is." Hermione smiled knowingly, before being swept up by her superhero and carried to the bedroom.

The next morning, Blaise and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table eating their breakfasts, or drinking their breakfasts as far as Blaise was concerned. He had no sooner finished his sixth cup of coffee when the Daily Prophet arrived.

"Look at this!" Blaise said urgently to Hermione, pointing spastically at the front page. There was a long article about Neville Longbottom. Apparently, he had been taking a ride on his broomstick when a rather large windstorm hit. Not being the best flyer in the world, he lost control, crashed into a large coffee house ("what a waste of wonderfully good coffee!"), before being carried off by the wind completely. No one has seen him since the incident, but it is predicted that he is currently still trapped in the sky somewhere, lost.

"Oh, that's terrible!" said Hermione, biting her bottom lip.

"This is great!" said Blaise beaming and looking as if he was the luckiest wizard in the world.

"What?" asked Hermione incredulously, horrified by her husbands lack of sympathy. "How can you say this is great? Poor Neville is trapped up in some windstorm, covered in coffee, and lost right now. He's probably scared out of his mind!"

"Hermione, don't you see?" said Blaise, his excitement uncontainable. "This is my chance! I can save Longbottom! I can finally be a superhero!"

"I don't know, Blaise," Hermione began. "It says that they've got some of the top Rescue Wizards in the business searching for him. If anyone finds him, it'll be them. They are professionals."

"No, Hermione. I can do this," Blaise continued, desperately. "I can do this!"

The look in his light blue eyes, it was so determined. Hermione knew there was no way her heart would let her dissuade him. "You go find him!" she said at last, smiling at him with admiration. He really was ambitious. Nothing could stand in his way. The Sorting Hat definitely knew what it was doing when it sorted Blaise into Slytherin. Blaise beamed at her, before making a beeline to the broom closet, where his costume was stored.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. Blaise was just something else, and she loved him with all her heart. A loud crash, however, brought Hermione out of her reverie.

Clunk! Another crash.

"Agh . . . Ow!" Blaise hollered.

"Er, is everything okay in there?" Hermione asked, concerned. "Do you need any help?"

"No. No I'm fine," Blaise assured her, before another crash ensued, followed by Blaise shouting a not so nice word.

_Perhaps the broom closet isn't the best place to make a costume change_, Hermione thought to herself. A few seconds later, Blaise emerged from the closet. Hermione took one look at him. Blinked. Blinked twice. Blinked a third time. Then she blinked just one more time, hoping desperately that her eyes were deceiving her. They weren't, however. Blaise Zabini was wearing bright, neon orange spandex pants, a black muscle shirt with a big silver coffee mug on it (Hermione had given it to him for Christmas last year as a joke!), green dragon hide boots, 'secret-agent' style sunglasses, a belt with twelve steaming mugs of coffee strapped to it, a huge, extravagant black and green embroidered cape, and was that a fedora on top of his head? He looked ridiculous! "Er, Blaise, sweetheart, you do realize those pants clash with those boots?" It was the only thing she could think to say.

"Well, you said I should wear spandex. It was the only thing available at such short notice," he explained. "Do you think they make my butt look big?"

Hermione looked at him with pure and utter disbelief. How did he expect to find Neville amongst a huge gust of wind in the middle of nowhere, when he couldn't even find clothes that matched? Hermione pondered this shortly, while making a mental note to visit Diagon Alley today and pick him up a black pair of spandex pants. Blaise took Hermione's moment of silence as a sign of approval, and proceeded to run toward the second story window. This certainly brought Hermione out of her daze. "Blaise! What are you doing?"

"I'm going to jump out this window, and then proceed to fly around the sky systematically until I find Longbottom," Blaise replied, grinning.

"Blaise, you can't simply just fly out of a window!" said Hermione, shocked at her normally logical and clearheaded husband's lack of sense. "You'll kill yourself."

"Ah, but Hermione, love, you underestimate me. I'm not foolish enough to believe that I can fly without help," said Blaise, now smirking smugly, while Hermione continued to stare at him as if he had gone completely bonkers. "You see, I found a potion in one of those books of yours. One serving of it gives me the ability to fly, as long as I'm wearing a cape, mind you, for a full hour."

"Impressive," Hermione noted, though she was only relieved shortly before her logic caught up with her. "But, what are you going to do once your hour is up. You can't honestly expect this little escapade to take less that one mere hour."

Blaise smirked even more smugly now. He knew Hermione would behave just like this. It was just so fun rattling her. He loved it! "You see, the potion is made even more powerful through the addition of caffeine. Therefore, I have cleverly added a serving of this potion to each and every one of my mugs here. I won't be falling out of the air within the next twelve and a half hours. I can assure you." With that, Blaise flew away.

Blaise had been flying around for at least four hours now. He had crashed into two trees, had his fedora stolen by a deranged bird (but don't fear, he rescued it!), got soaked by at least a dozen clouds, and almost managed to run into a plane. At least six people in the plane had fainted, and one may have even suffered a heart attack. He'd have to write them a 'sorry' note after his rescue mission was complete. However, he didn't seem to be having any luck finding Neville. He just needed some type of clue. Anything.

"Ugh!" Blaise ran into yet another cloud. He was beginning to get annoyed now. The condensation was causing his spandex pants to stick uncomfortably to his legs. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_, Blaise thought, aggravated. _Besides, it is just Longbottom... It's not like I've ever been good friends with him or anything. I don't need to save him . . . Oh, but Hermione's never going to let me live it down if I give up. This has got to be the most . . ._ '**Sniffs!**' _. . . hopele . . . _'**Sniffs Again!**'

"Hold on, what is that smell?" Blaise asked himself, puzzled. "It's really familiar," '**Sniffs Once More!**' "Hang on a second! That's coffee!" Without a second thought, Blaise soared in the direction of the oh-so-sweet smell of caffeine.

About twenty minutes later, he was still following it. It was getting stronger. There was a lot of wind in front of him, and it was blowing the scent roughly toward him. This has to be Heaven, Blaise thought fondly to himself. However, the loud and frantic yell Blaise heard ahead of him made it quite clear he wasn't in Heaven yet.

"Longbottom?" Blaise called out, uncertainly. _Of course, coffee! The article said he crashed into a coffeehouse before being blown away. Wow, this is too easy!_

"Help Me! Please. Someone!" Sure enough, Blaise saw the panicked figure of Neville Longbottom, fighting to stay on his broom. Now Blaise was in a tough position. If he were some Gryffindor, he would have just launched headlong into the wind and attempted to rescue Neville, while risking getting caught himself. However, Blaise Zabini was not a Gryffindor. He was a Slytherin; he would think this completely through before doing anything significant. After about ten minutes of careful thinking and planning, accompanied by an extra mug of coffee and Neville's terrified shrieks, Blaise had an idea, _WooHoo!_ and he pulled out his precious wand.

"Accio Longbottom!" Blaise bellowed. Immediately, Neville was pulled by an invisible force toward Blaise. Neville, who was now broom-less, was shrieking louder than ever. "Bloody Hell, Longbottom, you're a grown man and you sound like a little girl," said Blaise, as he held onto Neville's arm to keep him from falling. "Here, drink this and you'll be fine." Hesitantly, Neville drank from the mug. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing at first. Blaise was indeed wearing his sunglasses, and therefore he was unrecognizable. Neville had no idea who this weirdo in orange spandex and a fedora was. After drinking the coffee though, Neville too was flying high, and so he decided to trust the freak in a cape.

Blaise and Neville flew back to civilization- Neville, though still very shaken up, was incredibly relieved. And Blaise, well, he was so pleased with himself it almost wasn't healthy. _Ha! I can't wait to see the look on Hermione's face_, he thought smugly. Blaise dropped Neville off in the middle of Hogsmeade (there were a lot of people there, and he just couldn't wait to show off). He smiled broadly at the vast crowd, before giving them all, what he considered, a very classic superhero salute, and then flew away.

The crowd at Hogsmeade was completely captivated.

"It's a bird!" shouted a witch down by a nearby pub.

"It's a plane!" another wizard shouted.

"What's a plane?"

"Sorry, Muggle reference."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No. It's a 'Zabini'," exclaimed a young boy, pointing to the sky. Because Blaise was a smug little bastard, (however loveable!), he had written 'Zabini' up in the sky in green smoke.

"What's a 'Zabini'?"

". . . and what is this 'Zabini' doing?" asked another wizard. Blaise was so caught up in the euphoria of awesome-superhero-ness that he had begun to do some types of twirls in the air.

"He seems mighty hyper for a superhero!"

"It's gotta be the caffeine," Neville said at last. "When he saved me, he was wearing this belt with coffee mugs all around it."

"Fascinating," said the Minister of Magic, George Weasley. "Did you see his face?"

"No," Neville confessed. "He had sunglasses on. You know that it's impossible to recognize anybody who has sunglasses on. They're the perfect disguise."

"Yeah, that's true. He's a clever one, that's certain. Abbot, I want you to write me an article for the front page immediately. Tomorrow's headlines are going to read 'Caffeini Zabini: Britain's New Superhero'. Oh, that's good."

The next morning, the Daily Prophet arrived, as always. Hermione was at the table, starting her breakfast, but Blaise was still blissfully asleep. Hermione chuckled softly upon reading the headline. Her husband was a superhero. Who would have guessed that one? She looked at his picture in the Prophet and smiled. "Blaise, love, you've got to be the biggest loser I've ever met," she said lightheartedly to herself.

A second later, two strong, tanned arms wrapped themselves around her, and a smirking dark-haired man whispered gently into her ear, "Hermione, love, you're married to the biggest loser you've ever met."

The End


End file.
